Moods

by Helen Thomas

  Gleeson and Moody then discussed the trainer’s staff in 2014: there were 35 permanent and a dozen casual employees, and within that group there were 25 to 28 ‘general stablehands’.

  Gleeson: ‘You run a professional and successful training organisation?’

  Moody: ‘That would be for others to judge. I’d like to think so. It’s been good to me.’

  Gleeson: ‘Training horses is your life’s passion?’

  Moody: ‘The only thing I’ve ever done all my life, outside of attending school on occasions.’

  Gleeson: ‘You from time to time have turned your mind to the issue of how to instruct and motivate your staff?’

  Moody: ‘I would honestly say I’m not a “people person” – I struggle in that regard. I have a weakness when it comes to people, so I try and leave that to the people who work under me.’

  Gleeson: ‘So you’ve put in place systems so that your staff are properly trained, educated and motivated?’

  Moody: ‘Yes, but I would leave that to my underlings – my assistant, assistant trainer and their offsiders.’

  Gleeson: ‘How do you deal with problems that arise from time to time, when people make mistakes?’

  Moody: ‘I’ve always educated my management, assistant trainers and foremen to the point that the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. People that have worked for you for years might have shortcomings, but you can work around them. The new one that comes in the gate, it might take you six or 12 months to work around it, so the temptation is there to run people out the door, but [I believe you should] think before you do it.’

  Gleeson: ‘Is it fair to say that your view in recent years has been that the horse racing industry is closely regulated and monitored, in relation to prohibited substances?’

  Moody: ‘Yes, probably more so every day.’

  Gleeson: ‘It’s been your view in recent years that if an error is made, it could have potentially catastrophic consequences for you as a trainer?’

  Moody: ‘Yes.’

  Gleeson: ‘As a result, given that this is your life’s passion, you would have been doing everything that was reasonably within your power to prevent errors being made?’

  Moody: ‘You try and put systems in place, but I never forget one fact: human.’

  Gleeson: ‘No one at Peter Moody’s stables is under any misunderstanding about the importance of being careful with feed and supplements?’

  Moody: ‘I would say that since this case has arose [sic], it’s probably never been more so.’

  It was clear by now that Racing Victoria believed that how horses were fed at Moody Racing’s stables should be of major interest to the board.

  Gleeson: ‘Do you yourself sometimes perform the act of feeding a horse?’

  Moody: ‘I haven’t done for a long while, but I do go through the feed room to make sure the makeup of the feeds is my design and my design only. It’s probably been copied by hundreds of stables around the country at this period of time, and I check from time to time that [stablehand in charge of the feed room] Neil [Alexander] and [stablehand and assistant feeder] Rami [Myala] are doing the right thing. I don’t actually physically make them up anymore. I do at my farm, for my wife’s show horses, that’s the only time. But I do go through the stables and actually run my hand through the feed bin to make sure the horses are actually on the diet that I have requested.’

  Gleeson: ‘How often?’

  Moody: ‘Probably on a daily basis. If I inform a staff member to feed a horse a certain thing, I will make a point of checking. I would say there wouldn’t be a day gone by where I didn’t run my hand through a feed tin to some degree.’

  Gleeson: ‘Am I correct in my understanding that if a horse in your stable is to receive any treatment, you authorise it?’

  Moody: ‘Yes, or a member of my staff would come to me with a recommendation and I would tick off on it. In my absence, my assistant trainer.’

  Gleeson: ‘Even the vet has to confirm treatment of horses with you?’

  Moody: ‘Once again, the same scenario.’

  Gleeson: ‘So it would be your expectation that Lidari wouldn’t have just been waved in and fed whatever Mr Alexander thought was probably what was expected – there would have been actual discussion?’

  Moody: ‘Yes, well, Lidari was the sort of horse that required discussion. Not only was he a horse of ill manners, but he was a horse of certainly some substance within our stables, performing at Group level, so probably more so in his case than others.’

  Gleeson: ‘It would be your expectation that the discussion between Alexander and you or Ms [Stephanie] Little [Moody’s assistant trainer/foreman] would have made specific reference to Availa?’

  Moody: ‘It would have been a part of it, yes.’

  Gleeson: ‘However it was that the word “Availa” was introduced to you, you became aware that it was said to be a product that was helpful for horses with brittle hooves?’

  Moody: ‘Promoting hoof growth, general wellbeing of the hoof.’

  Gleeson: ‘What was your understanding as to just what it was about Availa that was going to do something about these brittle hooves?’

  Moody: ‘Well, nearly all treatments, regardless, are introduced to the animal to create blood flow. Everything’s about blood flow. Create blood flow, you help the healing process, whether it’s muscular, hoof, anything. We’ve rubbed toothpaste into their feet for a burning effect, things like that, to create blood flow to help healing. No, my understanding of Availa is nil, but obviously my belief would have been that it was helping blood flow to the feet, which [have] minimal blood and [are] one of the sources, if not the greatest source, of a problem for any race horse trainer, or any race horse itself.’

  Gleeson: ‘By the time the spring of 2014 rolls around, you’ve been buying, or your staff have been buying, bags of Availa for about seven years?’

  Moody: ‘Yes.’

  Gleeson: ‘I assume you’re not one of those people who just let things roll on without turning your mind to it. Over the course of the seven years, you would have conducted some sort of review to say, “Is this Availa any good?”’

  Moody: ‘If I suggested to you the names of some of the horses that were on this treatment, you’d fall off your chair.’

  Gleeson: ‘I doubt that. But are you saying to the board that you conducted reviews, however formal or informal, or you didn’t?’

  Moody: ‘No.’

  Gleeson: ‘No review?’

  Moody: ‘No review. Just my own belief or understanding [that it was working].’

  By now, as so often happens during lengthy cross-examinations that involve two strong personalities, the two men had developed a rhythm to their exchange, an almost private cadence they shared despite the presence of the three-man board and everyone else in the hearing room. But any heat between the pair was quickly turning icy.

  Gleeson: ‘You have a general recollection, I take it, of receiving a bulletin or notification from the stewards about the [cobalt] threshold?’

  Moody: ‘No.’

  Gleeson: ‘You didn’t hear anything in the media, on the radio, read anything in the papers, about the cobalt threshold?’

  Moody: ‘Quite possibly, but nothing that flagged an interest.’

  Gleeson: ‘Do you accept the fact that when you learned that there’s this new threshold for a prohibited substance introduced, you must simultaneously have appreciated that if you either deliberately or inadvertently used this prohibited substance, it could have catastrophic consequences for your career as a trainer?’

  Moody: ‘That’s right.’

  Gleeson: ‘Are you telling the board that, nonetheless, you just didn’t do any reading, you didn’t ask any questions, you didn’t trouble yourself to find out any more about cobalt?’

  Moody: ‘No. Well, we – I – don’t do anything outside the norm. I’m probably the simplest feeder and supplement trainer you could find anywhere. So I didn’t hav
e any reason to red flag, or have any query with anything I was doing within my stable.’

  Gleeson: ‘When you say you had no reason to red flag, do you accept the proposition that to know whether you’ve got a red flag, you’ve got to at least pick up a piece of paper and read it, or sit down with your vet and talk about it?’

  Moody: ‘Listen, quite possibly it might have been mentioned briefly at the time, but it certainly wasn’t mentioned to the significance that I had any issue with it whatsoever. Otherwise, I would. Listen, you might call me a dimwit or [say I] have a short memory or whatever. But I would recall if I had’ve had a concern with it at the time, and I certainly don’t recall that.’

  Gleeson: ‘So to the best of your recollection, you didn’t read a single word of a single document about cobalt and its properties and the risks of you getting an over-threshold reading?’

  Moody: ‘I wouldn’t say I didn’t read a single word on it, no. But it certainly didn’t raise an issue with myself or what I believe my regime to be at the time, no, of any great consequence. And I believe we would have been informed by, probably, the Trainers’ Association as well. I probably read it in passing and said, “Not an issue.”’

  Gleeson: ‘No sit-down with your vet to discuss it and say, “Do we have a problem?”’

  Moody: ‘Not that I recall.’

  The room began to thaw again as the QC tackled the trainer over what he did and did not tell the stewards when they came to his stables in January 2015.

  Gleeson: ‘Now, [you were] asked about supplements: Lidari was on one supplement?’

  Moody: ‘Listen, I believe so. I can’t recall.’

  Gleeson: ‘You knew so?’

  Moody: ‘At the time, probably not, no. I would have—’

  Gleeson: ‘You’re telling the board that, at the time, you didn’t know Lidari was on Availa?’

  Moody: ‘I probably did …’

  Gleeson: ‘Yes?’

  Moody: ‘… but listen, it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind, any supplementation that he was on, no.’

  Gleeson: ‘You conceded a moment ago [that] you probably did know he was on Availa, but you don’t tell them?’

  Moody: ‘No.’

  Gleeson: ‘And you’ve got no explanation for that?’

  Moody: ‘No.’

  Gleeson: ‘Had you forgotten that Lidari was a European horse?’

  Moody: ‘Listen, I’m not sure what I remembered and forgot at that point in time.’

  Gleeson: ‘Seriously? You’re telling the board that you might have forgotten that Lidari was a European horse?’

  Moody: ‘No, I wouldn’t have forgotten that fact …’

  Gleeson: ‘No?’

  Moody: ‘… but it wouldn’t have registered. There was probably quite a few things going through my mind at that point in time.’

  The hearing room now seemed hermetically sealed, protected from the sweltering dog day afternoon outside, yet somehow still oppressive. And Moody’s grilling wasn’t over. The management of Barn B, in which Lidari lived during his 2014 spring preparation – from July until November – also came under scrutiny, particularly in relation to who was feeding Lidari each day, and exactly how much of the hoof powder he was being given.

  Gleeson: ‘Just finally, when did you first become aware that Rami Myala, according to you, was feeding Lidari three scoops of Availa a day?’

  Peter Moody could not remember.

  Gleeson: ‘If you can’t remember, you can’t remember …’

  Moody: ‘No, [I] can’t remember exactly, no. It was after charges [were laid], I can tell you that … I would guestimate approximately three to four weeks after that period of time, maybe.’

  Gleeson: ‘How is it that you came to be having that discussion with Rami?’

  Moody: ‘He actually came to me and forwarded the information. In what context, I can’t recall. But the information was forwarded to me. I actually didn’t source it, it was brought to me …’

  Gleeson: ‘Forwarded to you – it sounds like a document?’

  Moody: ‘Well, it was brought to me – it was brought to my attention. I didn’t go out and grab him by the throat and shake it out of him.’

  Gleeson: ‘So Rami came to see you? You didn’t seek him out?’

  Moody: ‘No.’

  Gleeson: ‘Who was he with?’

  Moody: ‘Listen, once again, I can’t recall. Maybe my assistant trainer, Steph Little.’

  Gleeson: ‘Where were you?’

  Moody: ‘From memory, I was in my main yard.’

  Gleeson: ‘What did he say to you?’

  Moody: ‘I can’t recall the conversation. I can’t even recall that it was he who directly informed me. I’d be lying if I tried to suggest otherwise.’

  Gleeson: ‘When he told you that he was giving three scoops of Availa, what was your response?’

  Moody: ‘Once again, I can’t really rightly recall. But my initial response probably wasn’t of great panic, because I didn’t have a great belief that this would be the cause of, you know, the root of all evil, if you like. It didn’t send me into panic mode, but I thought that I should inform someone.’

  At that point, just ahead of the 2015 Spring Carnival and some 10 months after Lidari’s Turnbull Stakes placing, the trainer said he rang the stewards and his lawyer – in that order.

  Gleeson: ‘But would you have at least thought, “This is way too much Availa; it’s not supposed to get that much”?’

  Moody: ‘Yes and no. I do recall from an earlier situation and conversation with Mr Bryant that the horse Hanks was on a significant amount, and I think we determined that the horse was on three little scoops. After subsequent discussion, three teaspoons, I think, was the recommended [dosage]. But we don’t always follow guidelines of what we’re informed to give the horse – we work it out to suit ourselves.’

  As the hearing adjourned, Peter Moody and the two barristers looked strained, the journalists still present weary. A fourth day beckoned, and it was apparent to all that the case was unlikely to be over by Christmas.

  14

  MUCH HAS BEEN written about the next ‘good horse’ the trainer was blessed to train, a filly he sought out and bought at public auction. The racing gods were being uncharacteristically supportive as he looked at the bay yearling in the Swettenham Stud draft. But they hardly needed to be.

  He knew the family, and it was fast. Even on paper, it had the look of lightning. Bel Esprit, the youngster’s sire, had won the Group 1 Blue Diamond Stakes as a two-year-old and was a direct descendant, on his mother’s side, of Vain, a hugely influential sire and arguably Australia’s greatest sprinter. But for Peter Moody, the more compelling piece of this pedigree puzzle was the yearling’s mother, Helsinge.

  She was the daughter of Scandinavia, mother of Moody Racing’s excellent sprinter Magnus, and they, too, had the dazzling Vain in their blood. Surely this ‘double cross’ of brilliance could only be a good thing? Right from the start, this proved to be the case: Black Caviar was an extraordinary sprinter, courageous and strong.

  Moody remembers vividly where he was standing at the Inglis Premier Sale in Melbourne when he first saw her. ‘I was actually laughing at the [same] sale only about three or four weeks ago,’ he says. ‘I was there and it was the exact spot in front of this certain barn, where Swettenham always paraded their horses, that I first saw Black Caviar.’

  He had not seen her as she grew from a foal to a weanling. But once he did set eyes on her, he was a man on a mission. ‘I was instantly taken with her, you know?’ he remembers. ‘She was out parading. I look at every horse in the draft, so they bring them to me, and I was pretty taken with her straight away. And then I thought, “Well, shit, this is a nice filly, [let’s] see if we can find a client to take her on.”

  ‘You always have an attraction to families that you’ve had success with, and Magnus was [from] the same family as her … I’ve had success, good success, with a Group 1–performe
d sprinter in that family, so I was always going to look at her, regardless of what stallion she was by. But when I saw her, it was just … I wasn’t going home without her.’

  Finding owners, new or established, to buy into yearlings is one of the most challenging jobs trainers have each year. Replenishing a stable with new stock is imperative for any professional racing operation; as tried-and-true performers get older, and non-performers get moved on, if there aren’t good young horses to replace them, the business can suddenly start looking tired, and a bit forlorn.

  Not all trainers can pay the incredible prices required for the better-bred, better-conformed ‘babies’. Most have neither the financial base to purchase them on their own, nor owners wealthy enough to bankroll them. Even those trainers who can venture into the highly competitive sale rings often come up short. Reading a pedigree is one thing; being able to see a yearling’s potential is quite another.

  It is an art, a conjuring of spirit and form. Master trainer Bart Cummings had a diviner’s eye for a yearling, plucking a small filly from a New Zealand paddock to win his first Melbourne Cup. Light Fingers could not have been more different to Cummings’ last champion, So You Think, but the trainer spied him in New Zealand too, in a draft at the yearling ring in Karaka. Many good judges believe Peter Moody has a similar knack.

  Determined to secure this filly when she stepped into the auction ring at Oaklands, not far from Melbourne’s Tullamarine Airport, the trainer approached long-time supporter Stuart Ramsey to see if he was interested in getting involved with the youngster. He wasn’t. ‘Stuart looks at those things and decides on pedigree whether they’re worth looking at,’ Moody recalls, ‘and [he] just said she was a nice filly, and her pedigree wasn’t too bad, but nothing jumped out and grabbed you off the page.’

  The trainer then spoke to a number of others, including a stud manager who mentioned that owner Neil Werrett was looking for a horse to race with some friends. ‘I think they had a budget of around $100,000,’ the trainer says. ‘But I wasn’t sure that would buy this filly. I thought it probably would … but the end result was that I paid $210,000 for her, and I rang Neil Werrett and he said he’d take her. She had an unbelievable presence, [and] she was a good-actioned horse. She moved very well.’